


Hey Cas

by cardinalwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, I write journal entries every day guys, I'm living about this, M/M, spn coda, this is my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 18:19:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12612560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalwrites/pseuds/cardinalwrites
Summary: coda for 13x04 "The Big Empty.Dean writes in a journal.(Combination of new fic as well as previous fic that was posted on the castielsentries and deansentries blogs on tumblr)





	Hey Cas

**Author's Note:**

> This is a combination of three separate entries I wrote at different times. They somehow all seemed to make perfect sense in context with 13x04 that aired today. I feel like it's fate. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_“Dean, do you journal?”_

Dean scoffed. What kind of question even was that? “ ‘Caue writing words on a piece of paper is supposed to make me feel better.”

“Dad did it,” Sam supplied, a hand putting the beer bottle Dean had offered earlier to his lips. “He’d written more than once that it seemed to help him.” They had been back at the bunker for barely 3 hours when Mia’s words popped back into Dean’s head, enough to bring it back up in conversation with Sam. 

“You’re using Dad’s coping mechanisms as a good thing here?” Dean reiterated. “Not just two days ago you were telling me I was a drill sergeant just like him.”

“Well, you were, but this was actually a coping mechanism that helped him as a grieving widower, not as a dad who screwed up our childhoods.”

Dean paused, considering Sam’s words. “So, what, you journal every night before you go to bed, Dora?”

“I started to, actually, yeah.” Sam moved to grab the book he had been reading off the table in the war room. “It’s like writing out your memories, what you feel, how it happened. You’re not leaving it all up in here,” He pointed to his head, his face shifting to one of quiet sadness. “I wrote about Mom. Mia’s words hit a lot home, you know?” 

A brief silence filled the room with the weight of the words in the air, callbacks to previous conversations Sam and Dean had had just hours before about losing their mother coming back. 

“You said you could let Mom dying go, even if I kept the faith,” Sam ventured. “But maybe you should write something for who you can’t let go.”

Dean huffed like it was all funny now that he wasn’t deflecting anger. “You really think it’s that simple, especially for people like us?”

“I think it’s worth a shot.”

“It’s not gonna change him being gone.” Dean reiterated. “It’s not gonna change anyone being gone.”

“But it might just change you up here,” Sam pointed to his head once more. “I’m not asking you to be Shakespeare here, Dean. I’m just asking you to try.”

Another pregnant silence filled the room once more before Dean took a swig of his own beer and nodded. He pursed his lips and left the room without another word.

_Do you journal?_

_Ever since I was a little girl._

It was hard to care anymore about anything, so writing about it didn’t seem like it would change that anytime soon.

Which is why Dean sat at his desk for three hours, a flat piece of paper staring back at him. He doesn’t do this. He doesn’t willingly think about his feelings. 

Mainly because he doesn’t have any left.

It’s just… empty. That’s where he is. That’s what he felt.

_Maybe I can start there…_

 

 

**Feels like yesterday. Feels like an hour ago.**

**His wings are still there, even if we moved his body. There’s no sign a portal opened, but everywhere you look there’s a sign of Cas.**

**And yet Sam’s acting like the thing is the most important part of all this, that we have to focus on making sure he doesn’t escape or go anywhere. And sure, maybe he’s right and he’s thinking straight and he’s got a better head on his shoulders than I ever had.**

**But Cas and Mom are gone. Just like that. It’s been weeks and months and yet it hasn’t. The scars are still fresh.**

**I can’t wax words like Cas can’t. I can barely keep a few sentences together on a good day that make much sense, but yet here I am, still writing.**

**Would you have been proud? Or would you have never wanted me on here? What would you do now? I never thought I’d angel for choice advice once in my life, you know, and if memory serves you’d probably think the same thing if you’d ever come to me asking for what fate wanted you to do.**

**…**

**Things are changing. And I don’t think it’s for the better, not now. Not ever. It doesn’t matter anymore.**

**Because I can see your wings outside.**

**You know a part of me always wanted to see them? Not their shadows like the barn, but just what they looked like when you flew or when you’d knock crap over in the bunker (don’t think we didn’t notice.)**

**But this isn’t the way I wanted to see them you bastard.**

**I don’t want to see them outside.**

 

 

**Sam says this might help. I don’t really think so, but… well, here I am.**

**It’s, uh, it’s been a rough week, that’s for sure. Everything’s still fresh even though it’s not. There’s nothing… yeah, well, that’s it really. There’s nothing.**

**…**

**You believed in him. You told me you did, everything he told you even before the kid was even born. Well, that’s my biggest nail in this coffin here. Because it’s your coffin. Because you’re not here.**

**I know you needed a win. I know you wanted Jack to be that win. I know you wanted to bring one home. What I wish you knew was that it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t have cared if you won or lost, man. What I cared about was that you were still breathing. Not possessed, not lost, not in Washington; here. With Sam. And with me.**

**You’d be good at all of this Jack crap, even when you would have probably told yourself you couldn’t.  You would’ve known what to do with all of this. You would’ve kept me sane, I think. You would’ve kept me a lot of things, really.**

**…**

**I sound like a sappy teenager, you realize that? This is why I don’t write. I suck at it. You’d probably write pages…**

**No you wouldn’t. ‘Cause that’d mean you’d be grieving, too.**

**…**

**Jack is a lot like you, you know. It’s almost annoying. He won’t get my references or do what I say. He won’t even stay in the car when I tell him to.**

**Sound like someone?**

**…**

**…**

**Sam’s holding out hope for Mom, you know. I… you get it. You’ve always gotten it. I thought it was weird at first, but… now it’s just what we’ve done for what felt like forever. What maybe could’ve been forever.**

**I want you to come back. I want you to yell at me and make coffee or walk and disappear and come back, but you won’t. You won’t because your wings are burned into the ground in a way they never were when you left me before.**

**…**

**Sam said this might help. It sure did. Helped me want to punch a wall until I could feel any sort of pain.**

**…**

 

**\- Dean**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comes say hi on [tumblr](http://www.cardinalwrites.tumblr.com)!
> 
> I also write canon journal entries and have been for the last year and a half over on [castielsentries](http://www.castielsentries.tumblr.com). There is also a [deansentries](http://www.deansentries.com) blog that you can check out :)


End file.
